At first he had been embarrassed about her walking around naked, because it made him want to stare, which was rude. When he confessed this she had said: “Look all you want, I like it.” He still felt bashful, but not as much as before.

He had seen Lidka every night for a week.

He had had sex with her seven times, which was more than in his entire life up to that point, not counting hand jobs in massage parlors.

One day she had asked if he wanted to do it again in the morning.

He had said: “What are you, a sex maniac?”

She had been offended, but they had made it up.

While she brushed her hair, he sipped his coffee and thought about the day ahead. He had not yet heard from Tanya Dvorkin. He had reported the exchanges at the Egyptian embassy to his boss, Keith Dorset, and they had agreed there was nothing to do but wait and see.

He had a bigger issue on his mind. He knew the expression honey trap. Only a fool would fail to wonder whether Lidka had an ulterior motive in going to bed with him. He had to consider the possibility that she was working under orders from the SB. He sighed and said: “I have to tell my boss about you.”

“Do you?” She did not seem alarmed. “Why?”

“American diplomats are supposed to date only nationals of NATO countries. We call it the ‘fuck NATO rule.’ They don’t want us falling in love with Communists.” He had not told her that he was a spy rather than a diplomat.

She sat on the bed beside him with a sad face. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No, no!” The idea almost panicked him. “But I have to tell them, and they will check you out.”

Now she looked worried. “What does that mean?”

“They’ll investigate whether you could be an agent of the Polish secret police, or something.”

She shrugged. “Oh, well, that’s all right. They’ll soon find out I’m nothing of the kind.”

She seemed relaxed about it. “I’m sorry, but it has to be done,” Cam said. “One-night stands don’t matter, but we’re obliged to report if it gets to be more than that, you know, a real loving relationship.”

“Okay.”

“We do have that, don’t we?” Cam said nervously. “A real loving relationship?”

Lidka smiled. “Oh, yes,” she said. “We do.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

The Franck family traveled to Hungary in two Trabant cars. They were going on holiday. Hungary was a popular summer destination for East Germans who could afford the petrol.

As far as they could tell, they were not followed.

They had booked their holiday through the tourist office of the East German government. They had half-expected to be refused visas, even though Hungary was a Soviet bloc country; but they had been pleasantly surprised. Hans Hoffmann had missed an opportunity to persecute them: perhaps he was busy.

They needed two cars because they were taking Karolin and her family. Werner and Carla were madly fond of their granddaughter, Alice, now sixteen. Lili loved Karolin, but not Karolin’s husband, Odo. He was a good man, and he had got Lili her present job, as administrator of a church orphanage; but there was something forced about his affection for Karolin and Alice, as if loving them was a good deed. Lili thought a man’s love should be a helpless passion, not a moral duty.